Hello everyone, (sorry this is a long one)
I have been a little silent on here as I'm trying to take a break from everything social media, if you will. It's been so many years since I've felt like "me" that I don't even know what that means anymore. The past few years I have grown to be okay with just staying in my room day after day; I began being OK with the thought that I may be alone forever. I felt at that time I was in control of everything and doing fine. The reality was I was eating myself into an early grave and using work, money, and drugs to keep my thoughts at bay.
In March of last year, I had a doctor's appointment in which it became clear that at 31 years old I would most likely not live to see 35 if I continued to live my life the way I was. I decided to put my pride to the side and admit I had a problem and needed to work on it, so I got the process started for bariatric surgery and did the work. Knowing the stigma behind the surgery and how others did not treat it with the respect it deserved, I wanted to make sure I used this opportunity to the fullest. I reached 520 pounds at that doctor's appointment and getting to the point that TLC may contact me. I got the process started for surgery and worked on myself getting to about 430 pounds on the day of surgery, all with hard work.
When I woke up from surgery, I was thrilled that I finally got it done, but I made sure I would not revert to my old way and stick to a system. It was more challenging than I thought to completely change my relationships with food, money, and cannabis but something I needed to do. Long story short, but I am close to 11 months post-op and am writing this after the gym. Today I just wanted to do cardio and I did an hour on the elliptical for 3.1 miles and a year ago, I wouldn't have been able to do 5 minutes. I am now down to 295 and learning to love the gym and making it a regular part of my life at this point.
Now why am I talking so much about the gym on this platform? It has allowed me to use the gym and my body to work on my anxiety and depression instead of always going to smoke or take a pill. For those following my posts, Wednesday will be two months since I moved back home, and there has been a lot of change, which is scary, but now it is good. When I first moved in I felt like a complete loser and felt everyone around me was watching every move I make. Two months later, I feel different. I feel happy and free, which is very new to me and scary, but I am pushing past those feelings. Saturday I wore some new clothes I got at the thrift store in sizes I haven't worn in over 15 years and had a whole day out and about. I wish I could think of a better word than different, but I feel different in about every conceivable way. When I first got here, I thought that this was a move that would doom me, and now I feel this was the best thing to happen to me; I even see my hospital stay as a positive. I needed a rude awakening about the way I was living my life and ignoring my anxiety and depression.
I am not afraid nor embarrassed by my anxiety and depression any more, I am acknowledging it, and now that I know this is a part of me I am more aware of how to manage it. I have my first therapy appointment on Wednesday, and I am so excited to start doing the hard work to help better myself. While I feel so much better, I know there will be bad days ahead, and I need to continue to push and grow instead of feeling like I have fixed it.
This difference is exciting and scary, but I know it is ultimately good for me.
Different views, different feels
Life is different and so am I 
Struggling with different things.
good days and not so good Days
Relearning the good habits
